The Writer's Handbook
by SimplyMrsWhitlock
Summary: So it's not an actual handbook. It's just some random writings that popped into my head while I was doing something. They have nothing to do with anything to be honest. They're all mixed in so there's no specific pairing. Not beta'd


**A/N **

**So this isn't really anything. There aren't any names or any specific plot. I could turn this into a prologue for a future story or something, but for now it's a huge blank spot. **

**In my mind, I saw the point of view as Bella, the men as James and two lackees, and the woman as Victoria. The man Bella fell in love with could be whoever your heart desires. BUT that doesn't mean you have to invision it like that. The point of view could be of Jessica Stanley and the woman could be Jane. Whatever.**

** I can tell you now that it is all human. **

**It is also dark and deals with man hitting a female, blood, and mentions rape even though the word isn't said. Just in case this isn't your cup of tea and wouldn't want to read this. **

**I honestly don't expect feedback, but if you want to review, thanks a bunches :)  
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><p>"Ungh."<p>

A black, steel-toed boot to my stomach had me bent in half. I was pretty sure I would have collapsed on the ground by if there were two men holding me up by my arms.

"Don't got nothing' smart to say to me now, huh, you stupid bitch?" The man in front of me sneered.

Using the blood that had pooled in my mouth, I stood up straight as best as I could and spat it at him, coating his face-mostly his nose-in dark crimson. Well, I couldn't tell if it was crimson because it was dark in the room, but I could see a gleam of thick liquid from the light of the moon shining in from the dirty, barred, and only, window in the room.

I noticed the man in front of me didn't like sticky shit coating his face because he slapped me with the same hand he wiped the blood off with. I was pretty sure I had a red handprint on the side of my face.

"Oh, I'm going to enjoy breaking you in," He breathed in my face as he turned it back towards him with his greasy hand.

His breath was hot and stinky, making me wonder if he had brushed it any time soon. He pressed his disgusting lips against mine, trying to force his swarming tongue into my mouth. Mustering as much strength as I could, I connected my knee to his ballsack, giving him my famous ball-busting knee.

"Fucking bitch!" The man yelled, griping his now bruising body part in his hands.

I would have smirked if my face wasn't bruised and slightly swollen, making it hurt to move my lips. Once he righted himself, he started to make some type of threat, but was cut off by another voice.

"Enough," a stern, female voice called, silencing the room. "Leave."

The man stepped back as the other two dropped my arms, causing me to almost collapse from the pain shooting through my body. Right after they had found me, they dragged me to this warehouse I'm assuming, and beat the shit out of me for thirty minutes. As the men left, my eyes never left the woman as she stood stock still in the room. The second the door closed, I heard her heels as she moved towards me, the only sounds was the clicking of her heels, designer no doubt.

"Why-," I spat blood out onto the ground and cleared my throat before speaking again. "Why'd you let them go? I thought that was what you wanted." I couldn't hide my revulsion as I thought of the twisted things that went on in her mind.

"Of course I let them go. Why would I want them to touch what's mine?"

It sickened me how baby-ish her voice was. It was like a contradiction. Her voice reminded me of bubble gum and lollipops, but the things she said could give me nightmares.

If I had them.

"And what if I don't want to be yours?"

"We don't always get what we want, now do we, my sweet?"

She caressed my cheek in a soft, soothing way as she cooed out the words of endearment that meant shit to me. Even the slightest touch of her hand stung like hell against my cheek and I resisted the urge to hiss, which was nearly impossible.

"You'll be mine in due time, my sweet." She said as she started out of the room, not caring that she had her back to me. Even if I did get past her, there would be men with guys and knives on the other side of the doorway, no doubt. "He will never save you. He left you remember? He didn't want you anymore. Why would he risk his life for you? You were a job, sweetheart. Every kiss, every touch, every '_I love you' was complete and utter bullshit. He knew what he was doing and he was playing you like a pied piper."_

Unable to stop myself from opening my stupid mouth. "You don't know him. He'll come back for me," I gritted out through my teeth.

I didn't like the smirk that slowly stretched across her face. "I know him more that you do. And even if he does come back for you, you'll be dead before then."

Never show fear. That's what I was taught and that's exactly what I'll continue to do no matter what the circumstances. Fear is a weakness and so was love. That's what got my parents killed. I vowed never to make a mistake like that.

"And he will follow you quickly after."

Too bad that mistake had already been made.


End file.
